On The Border's Of The Shire
by Baralach
Summary: An interesting story of two Ranger's efforts to do their part during the war of the Ring. This is not one of those stupid 'another character joins the Fellowship' crap-tacular pieces. It's set in the sidelines. R&R, please.
1. intro and preparations

Chapter One:                                        

Introduction of Lhydell

Disclaimer: I do not, unfortunately, own LOTR

Lhydell yawned and stretched her legs, the sun was just down in the west and the North Star shone brightly in the crisp winter sky, and she was soon to be relieved of her watch by her favourite cousin, Wherul.

'First of all,' Lhydell wondered to herself, 'why by the lost light should the Shire need such a steady watch in the first place. Bree does not have this rigid a guard, nor do any of the other lands we keep under our sight. Secondly, why has this already absurd guard been doubled?'

Of course, Lhydell knew as all the Dundain knew that the shadow in the east was again risen and that the Grey Istari had discovered the dark Morgoth servant creating evil in Dol Guldur, but she did not understand why Mirthandir was so concerned about the sleepy land of the Shire. How could the borders to the Hobbit's land be so in need of watching when the rest of the middle earth knew not of its existence?

These thoughts weighed heavily on Lhydell's mind and she was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she did not notice Wherul until he touched her shoulder, making her jump.

Wherul, his dark green eyes sparkling with amusement, tried his hardest not to laugh as his younger cousin gasped for air.

"You jerk," Lhydell pushed him jokingly, "I nearly took your head off."

It wasn't until she said this that Wherul saw the twin blades shining brightly in her hands, he gulped, realizing how bad a scare he had given her and how badly his trick might have turned if she had been any less attentive.

"Twice," he commented as she sheathed her long knives and sat back down onto the fallen limb she had been seated on. "Sorry I am a touch late, there have been reports of strangers wandering up the road and towards the Shire. Adair says to come see her as soon as you get back, she seemed rather anxious to talk."

Lhydell cocked her head to the side, "What does she want to talk to me about?"

Wherul sighed and stretched out on the limb beside her, vainly pushing his long brown hair out of his eyes for a moment before it fell back again, "I don't know, mellon nin. She was getting a back of vitals together and two horses prepared, so I think you might be in for a journey. Perhaps you will be joining cousin Estel and the twins for an orc hunt in the hills; if you do, give my regards to Aragorn for me. I've not seen hide nor hair of him for going on five years."

"And neither have I, cousin. To think! Ha, after all, I am his favourite cousin, am I not?"

Both laughed and the tall ranger gave his cousin a friendly bump of his shoulder, "of course, Little, of course."

Lhydell snorted and bumped him back, she didn't like being reminded of her infamous nickname 'little', which was derived from her rather unique, 'ground hugging' stature.

This is what made Lhydell such an asset to watching the halfling lands, she was short enough to pass for a bit taller hobbit than usual, and could travel easier through places such as Bree and the Shire relatively unnoticed – She even had a halfling name, Rosie Greenhill!

Although this was a good thing for one thing, as they say, it was a bad thing for another, and her friends and kin teased her constantly.

The news of a possible chance to go with her friend Adair on a journey was a refreshing change from the monotonous task of guarding the Shire, one that – if it should be offered – would not be passed up.

With a last smile and pat on the back, Lhydell rose from her perch and disappeared into the underbrush, slowly and quietly making her way back to the villa where Adair waited.

Chapter Two:

Preparations.

Once Wherul had left to take over Lhydell's post, Adair had gone into overdrive finding maps, provisions, extra clothing, and other such stuff needed for the journey to Imladris.

Lhydell was hard to find cloths – not to mention a horse – for, being just less than five feet tall. Generally, on short notice, she wore children's cloths, but there were no children here at the Dundain villa, only those warriors and wanderers called 'rangers' by the Bree and Shire folk. 

Once the four bags needed were packed full Adair let herself sit down for a moment and rest.  

'By Eru,' she wondered tiredly, 'why are the little one and I summoned to Imladris?'

Not long before a messenger had ridden into the villa with the news that Lhydell Lornin's daughter and Adair of Ithilin were to ride as soon as possible to Imladris, where they would then learn what they are needed for.

Before Adair had time to question the young Elven rider, he had switched to a fresh horse and was off, riding hard for Rivendell, which had frustrated her to no end.

This had only been a last throwback in an already bad day; they had taken two vile looking southerner's who they had caught trying to sneak into the South Farthing, and another stranger had picked a fight with a long ranger on the road past Buckland.

All had said they were simply curious travellers who had never seen halflings before and had only wished to see one, and all were rather put out when their escorts walked them to the Prancing Pony in Bree where several Hobbits could be found drinking and smoking weed among the men and dwarves in the common room.

Besides that, Adair had received word that an old friend had left for the west, without bidding farewell to her. 

No, this had not been a particularly fun day for the blond haired ranger, and Eru was she not in the mood for the riddles of Elves, especially those of Lord Elrond of Rivendell.

'Ah well,' she thought, reaching for the necklace around her neck, 'at least I will have some time to talk with Lhydell. She's a very sympathetic listener, unlike these jerks.'

As she turned that thought over in her mind Lhydell knocked and entered into her friend's rooms. The small ranger eyed the bags next to the door and the nearly asleep blond next to the fire and grinned, "So, where are we going now?"

Adair started and glanced over to her friend, "Imladris, mellon nin, we have riddles to solve and elves to frustrate."

"How about a kinsman to journey with," Lhydell smiled, meaning Estel.

"Strider? No, he's in the south, last I heard. Looking for someone for Mithrandir, I believe."

Lhydell looked downfallen, like a child who realises that they won't be getting a long expected present.  

"Oh, well… so, to Imladris you say? When do we leave?"

Adair chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm, "tomorrow morn; and don't worry, I have secured you a mount that won't be too high to fall off of. You get Pathia, that lovely pony my brother Arden brought from Rohan last year."

Lhydell nodded with a terrific yawn, signalling to the older ranger that it was time for her to sleep. Adair yawned in agreement and dismissed her after affirming that she would be ready to ride first light tomorrow.

As the two female Dunadain warriors fell asleep Aragorn, in the lands near to Mordor, followed the trail of Gollum, and Curunin – Saruman – turned his thoughts towards the heavily guarded Shire that was quickly becoming more and more interesting in his eyes.


	2. Ai, Dunadan, and turn away

Chapter 3:  Ai, Dunadan, And Turn Away…

"Imladris is not far, we shall be there before the end of the week," Adair assured her brother as she readjusted her stirrups, "But I suppose I must compensate time for the shorter legs of the pony."

Arden grinned and turned to Lhydell, "Uh oh, _mellon_, she's making fun of you again!"

Adair swatted the back of Arden's curly head and smiled at her travelling companion, "Shall we?"

Lhydell winked at Arden who jovially returned the gesture, "Lets."

The two rangers started off in what must have been a humorus way for those that witnessed the short girl on a pony and the tall girl on a lofty mare depart remember it with laughter and calls for ale.

Onto the paths of the Dunedain they lead their mounts and dissolved into the green-grey wilderness…

{Two days later, dusk}

Adair coughed as the grey speckled pony reared and a cloud of dust rose about her.

"What are you doing, Lhydell?" The smothering ranger shrieked as the pony again reared, nearly throwing off its small rider.

With a cry, Lhydell was thrown from her mount and crashed into the underbrush with a thud and a moan. Adair, her own horse skittish now too, lept from her saddle and rushed to sooth the terrified pony.

"Shhh, Pathia calm, shhhhhhh."

The horse, eyes wild and mouth frothing, quit rearing but would not stay still; Adair covered the pony's eyes and spoke calming words in elvish into the poo thing's ears.

Slowly it calmed down enough for Adair to tie its reins to a tree limb, then calmed her own startled mare.

"Lhydell, are you all right?"

A moan came up from under a bush and she saw a skratched and bloodied hand emerge from under, followed by a head of tangled hair full of sticks and an assortment of other oddities picked up during her plunge through the bush.

Adair smothered a laugh as Lhydell blew a feather out of her face, "Have a nice trip?"

Lhydell only muttered something that sounded like shut up and pulled herself up out the enemy shrub. Adair laughed at her companion's comical apperance and though to herself, 'I really shouldn't be laughing, she might have been badly hurt!' But before she could say anything out loud she had another, more wary thought, 'what made the pony so wild?'

Though both were visibly calmer, the pony from Rohan still shivvered terribly and it's eyes were rolled back. Adair quickly scanned the surrounding trees, but she could see nor hear anything out of place, but her mare's nostrils were wide and flaring.

Tentatively she sniffed the air; the smells of dust, horse, plant and the faint aroma of pine entered her nose. These were all normal and well, but… there was something else, something cold and metalic, and something not good, something not good at all.

"Lhydell," she hissed in Sindarian, "what do you smell?"

The small curly haired mess paused in her feeble attempts to remove all the dirt and crushed leaves that stuck to her to delicately sniff the north wind breeze.

"There is the smell of the forest, of the spring ahead, the dirt and the horses…" Her dark eyes widened with alarm, "there is something foul nearby, or was here of late."

She inhaled again, deeply, her eyes screwed shut and a hand strayed the the blade sheathed around her waist, "It is not a man sent, nor is it orc."

Adair watched with admiration for the tiny warrior's elf-like sence of smell, yet her own hands found their way to her bow and quivver without her notice, an arrow notched and bow at the ready. Here they stood for only a moment, though it seemed like hours for the two fearfull horses, before Lhydell declared, "Let us leave now, I do not think that we should rest the night, fire may draw unwanted company to our location."

Adair returned her bow to its place and, still watching the surrounding forest keenly, raised an eyebrow to Lhydell's remark.

"Yet it is possible to meet unexpected company upon the road, too. This needs solving, should we wait to be sure they are gone, or will it risk our position too this foul thing?"

Lhydell nodded and told her that the need to put distance between the thing and them is greater than the need for sleep and food. "We have _lembas_ and water, and we have not been riding the beasts hard; we should leave now."

Adair saw her point and, after holding the pony's head while Lhydell climbed aboard, settled into her saddle and spurred her mare on down the path.

Lhydell, ever a lover of animals, patted Pathia gently and sang to her a song that her Nana used to sing her to sleep with…

Sleep my Maia, evergreen 

_Sleep into a happy dream_

_May your road be long_

_May you fulfill the song_

_And rest easy in the Halls_

_That place beyond Arda's walls_

_Beyond darkness' calls…_

They travelled through the night and into the morning's stillness, eyes to the west in reverence for the fallen Numenor and the Valar in the Undying Lands.

Adair smiled through her wearyness at Lhydell as _Amon Sul_, Weathertop, came into view. Interupting the small Dunadan's soft songs that she had sang all night to ward off sleep, Adair suggested that they rest at the ruins of the ancient lookout.

"I suppose my Pathia-darling could do with a bit of a stop, how about your tall Tabinith," Lhydell teased gently.

Adair smiled saucily back and raised an eyebrow, the eye below glittering with mirth despite the bags under them proclaiming her need for sleep, "race you!"

With that they were off, the small pony suprisingly keeping up and even surpassing the northern-bred mare. The two riders laughed merrily and pulled in their mounts as they quickly cam up to the ancient ruins, dismounting and leading the panting horses to a cave where an underground spring flowed cheerily, reflections filling the cave with light patterns and the air with a sound like the tinkling of small bells.

Here the two girls, though by their years they hardly could be concidered that by regular men in whoes veins do not flow the remenants of the Numenorean blood, rested their horses and refilled their water skins before taking the inner hidden stairs to the top.

As the sun rose in her magnificence the two sleepy Dunedain made their small breakfast of apples picked from a tree along the road by Lhydell and the waybread that Adair had packed at the watch-camp of the Rangers.

Lhydell sighed, leaning back while eating her apple with relish, and looked around the stone surrounding them.

'Oh, what I wouldn't give to go back and see this place before it's fall from glory,' the slightly mellow second-born girl thought, 'That I could even see Numenor, her towers sparkling and bright! Oh, by the Fire of Iluvatar, how I would love to see the great places before the great upsurper defiled it by his cheating pressence and caused the fall of men… Oh, for the western shores and Tol Eressa… for the Silver Land where the golden ones dwell! The west… oh pooh, it is naught but a fantacy for my kind and kin, we lost the grace of the Gods and are now lost too, homeless without a king…'

The light of their eyes burned bright 

_As the evil Edain landed to fight_

_With anger ablaze like the moon_

_Manwe bent the seas and set men's doom_

_Ai, Dunadan that longs to sail_

_Dunadan, you will surely fail_

_For their wrath will still avail_

_And to deaf ears fall your wail_

_Ai, Dunadan, turn away!_

_The crown was lost and broken_

_And of his ship there was no token_

_The lands crumbled and water roared_

_And laughing went Sauron the dark lord_

_Ai, Dunadan that longs to sail_

_Dunadan, you will surely fail_

_For their wrath will still avail_

_And to deaf ears fall your wail_

_Ai, Dunadan, turn away!_

_Yet escape did Elendil and his true kin_

_But not untouched by Numenor's sin_

_Though the city towers rose white and high_

_To the west they would look and sigh_

_Ai, Dunadan that longs to sail_

_Dunadan, you will surely fail_

_For their wrath will still avail_

_And to deaf ears fall your wail_

_Ai, Dunadan, turn away!_

_And now still since the passing of the King_

_We the lost Numenoreans sadly sing_

_Of the memory of our desperate plight_

_And the wrongs not yet made right_

_Ai, Dunadan, turn away!_

Adair, who had been drifting into sleep, heard the song that Lhydell sang.

Her heart nearly broke as the words, so sad they sounded, drifted through the air like tendrils of smoke from a candel extinguished. She had not realized how deeply her distant cousin's ache for the west ran, as the words of the song were so pitifully desperate for that land that it made tears form in her eyes and a lump in her throat.

'Eru, despite that she looks as far from a Numenorean of old she has the heart of ten!'

Adair's last thought before sleep happpily took her was the last line of the song… '_Ai, Dunadan, turn away…'_


	3. Meeting and Departures

Chapter 4:

"My Lord," the servant bowed to Elrond, "A lone grey elf arrived just moments ago and wishes to speak with you."

Elrond raised an eyebrow, "A silvan you say? Whereof, Mirkwood?"

The dark haired elf shrugged and, gracefully, bowed and left the room as a white haired elf came in. Elrond looked thoughtfully at this dark skinned and dark eyed elf that bowed nervously and cleared his throat.

"Elrond Peredhil, I am Bronwë Uinnadrolion of Ered Mithrin, and I was sent by a distant kinsman of yours to deliver a message," he paused, waiting for Elrond to acknowledge this, and began the message, "Oh lore master of Imladris, my distant uncle by Elros Tar-Minyatur. My name is Mornhir son of Dúrhir, whose lineage can be traced father-to-son to the third child of your brother, the first King of Numenor.

"There is need, Lord, for the aid of Imladris in the repelling of the bands of orcs and wolves which threaten to slaughter the inhabitants of the Grey Mountains and the last remnants of the Numenoreans in those parts. Desperate times are upon us and we shall soon be lost if we do not receive aid from our ancient allies and kin."

Here the elf stopped and looked down, sadness upon his fair face, and he would speak no more until Elrond pried from him the news that, after Bronwë had received the message, Mornhir was slain by an orc dart as the camp they rested in was attacked in the night.

Elrond took this news gravely; it had been long since he had heard of the descendants of his nephew Melannen, and now the last of that line was dead.

"This is sad news, _mellon_. Did he leave any children after him?"

Bronwë shook his head sadly, "No, lord, only a foster-daughter named Gaila."

Elrond sighed, his heart sank and, for a moment, he felt his age press down upon him.

Six thousand years and nearly two ages to the date had passed since his much-loved brother had met the Doom of Men and still his heart ached for Elros.

"How fared the people after this raid?"

Bronwë shook his head, "They were valiant but few survived; I saw them to the Forodwaith where they had friends and kin among the men of Forochel before I set out for this place. Mornhir wished it so I travelled here first, though the Mirkwood was closer. He sent messages to the King of that place too, but they are of little or no importance now."

Moving to the great bookshelf of his study, Elrond looked over the many covers until he found the book he wanted. It was thick, and on the pages were drawings of men and lists of names along with dates of birth and dates of death.

The elven lord smiled as he found the last filled in page, a picture of Arvellas…

Elrond held up the picture for Bronwë to see, "This was have been Mornhir's great great grandfather, if I am correct. He was killed quite young and only had one son, but that son was lost and I could find no more intelligence of my nephew's line. This is sad now to find that it is ended."

The grey elf bowed, feeling his own throat constrict at the great lord's pain, "Lord, he was a good man and he fought bravely even after he had been wounded many times in battle, it is because of him that any survived. Ai, it is because of him that I am not in the Halls of Waiting instead of the Halls of Imladris."

A smile appeared on the seven thousand year old half-elf's face and he held the book and a pencil out to Bronwë. Understanding what Elrond meant, Bronwë took the profered book and sat down in a soft chair and began to sketch Mornhir's face upon the last page.

When he was finished Elrond dismissed him and he was escorted to rooms where he rested and prepared for the banquet that was to be held that night.

Back in the study Elrond looked down at the face of the dead adan for a while before closing the book sharply and loudly and replaced it to its place on the shelf.

For hours Elrond went through his other books of kin until he came to one portrait and left it open on his desk.

When he had gone and left to prepare for the feast a servant entered to clean and found a book left on his desk, it was opened on an ancient portrait of four smiling elves – Eärnendil, Elwing, Elros and Elrond Peredhil.

************************************************************************

Bronwë Uinnadrolion sat near the centre of the long table, directly across from the most unlikely person he had ever thought of meeting in Imladris, Bilbo Baggins!

The humorus old halfling, hobbit as he called himself, intrigued Bronwë to no end.

"Well, mister Uinnadrolion," The small creature had said to him when they were introduced, "you must tell me of Ered Mithrin, I am writing a book, you know, and I want to put in as much as possible. So, tell me, are there any hobbits there?"

Now, as the meal was mostly done, the elderly Bilbo's head was beginning to lean further and further down towards his chest as sleep came to fall heavily upon him.

As gently as he could, Bronwë and a Rivendell elf tenderly moved him to a soft chair next to the fireplace. With a smile, Bilbo awoke and thanked them before nodding off again into whatever hobbits have for dreams.

"He is a most unique character, that one is, _mellon_," the other elf commented with a loving smile.

"I am Bronwë Uinnadrolion of Ered Mithrin," Bronwë introduced himself with a bow.

" And I am Síladan Aglargelion, I wander between the woods and the sea, but my home is here in Imladris," Síladan returned his bow. "I must ask, Bronwë, if this is your first time past the Grey Mountains?"

Bronwë cocked his head to the side and the corners of his mouth twitched, "Am I that obvious, _mellon_?"

Síladan threw back his head and laughed a great hearty laugh, "Oh, cousin," he managed to gasp through his laughs, "you would not believe if I were to tell you…"

But he never finished that sentence for at that moment two cloaked and hooded figures darted into the hall, one tall and one so short Bronwë wondered if this was yet another of the amazing hobbits.

Elrond rose to meet them and they threw back their hoods, two Dunadan girls stood there panting, bloodied, and travel stained.

Quickly Elrond and Glorfindel took them from the room to the study nearby and the room was left in a shocked silence.

Many looked over to Bronwë, since he was also a new arrival they assumed that he must know them, he didn't and showed this by shrugging at Síladan.

It didn't matter, the banquet was over and now it was time to say farewell to the company who was leaving tonight for the Grey Havens and the Uttermost West.

A song began softly and picked up… a beautiful song in Quenya, the High tounge, and the stars waxed in the sky as the travellors departed on horseback, calling goodbyes to those that they would not see again until they joined them in the West, or else in the Halls of Mandos.

***********************************************************************

(Cut back to Lhydell and Adair, two days after their sleep on Amon Sul. They are close to Rivendell and only a few hours away from crossing the Loudwater.)

'There is something coming behind us!' Lhydell suddenly thought.

She looked behind her and saw in the distance a man on horseback coming hard and fast after the two rangers.

"Adair, we are pursued," She shouted, spurring Pathia into a gallop as the taller girl looked behind in alarm.

"We will split up, make strait for the ford, I will draw him off and loose him in the trollshaws," Adair called ahead to her companion, then slowed the pace of her mare and veered north towards the shady forest.

Lhydell was soon out of sight and their pursuiant close and coming, sword drawn, after Adair. Shouting a challenge, Adair pulnged into the trollshaws and dodged trees and rock as the cloaked assailant followed close behind.

For long Tabinith held out and had a far lead, but eventually she became weary from such a long journey and this breakneck speed on the uneven and trecherous forest floor became the best of her and, catching a hoof in an uplifted root, triped and sent Adair flying above the mare's head and into the high braches of a tree with a painfull thud.

The cloaked man soon came to the injured mare and looked around for her rider.

'Eru be thanked!' Adair thought with relief from her precarious position of dangling from a high limb in the tree where she was hidden by leaves and remenants of branches that she had broken through, 'he cannot see me!'

Just as she thought that the hooded man called out in a tounge she knew not but it sent shivvers down her spine and threatened to make her loose her hold on the tree. Tabinith, her poor horse, whinnied and shrieked as the cloaked rider approached her.

There was a moment when the rider dismounted and walked to the panicing horse when Adair could not see what was going on but she discovered it soon enough when the poor horse's shrieks were suddenly silenced as his sword sliced the mares head clean off.

Adair turned away and swallowed the scream that had risen in her throat.

The rider seemed to be sniffing the air, much the way Lhydell and she had done not quite five days ago; Adair sniffed the wind, but kept her eyes rivited upon her assailant.

The air smelt faintly of the tree she held on to, but more overpowering was that foul metallic smell. The stench of blood and grime made the frightened ranger gag, but not a sound did she make…

It was a long time before the hunter gave up his quary and took off, quickly, in the direction that Lhydell had ridden off to.

With an agonized sigh of relief, Adair dropped to the ground where the sight of the decapitated horse greeted her and the runes cut into her side that read 'You are in the tree, adan.'

Adair stared at the words and began to shake, 'It knew where I was all along!'

A movement behind her made her spin and draw her sword quickly; ignoring the blaze of painfull protest her bruised and possibly cracked ribs gave.

Both predator and prey were caught offguard as the elf's bow aimed at Adair's chest and her sword point nearly touched his chin.

"Adair," a familiar voice called, it was Lhydell, "it's okay, and the wraith is gone."

With a groan, Adair lowered and leaned upon her sword as the small girl ran forwards.

The tall elf didn't lower his bow but turned in a slow circle and watched with bright eyes for the smallest sign of the wraith.

"How… why… what…" Adair gasped at her friend who looked with disgust at the mauled horse.

"I met my good friend… um… excuse me," Lhydell called to the strange elf, "I didn't catch your name. I am Lhydell Uinaerien and this is my companion Adair Ithilwen."

Finaly, lowering his bow, the keen eyed elf turned to them and smiled faintly, "I am Seregnen of Rivendell and am the Ford's guard. I came as quickly as I could when I saw the wraith give chase to you two that I had been watching for some time. I met Uinaerien near the Ford and we rode back quick for you,"

Seregnen tossed back his hood and his odd red and white hair and deep green eyes took both rangers aback, "You are most luck that this was not Nazgul, but only a lesser wraith. If it had been you most certainly would not have survived and I would be of no help either, I am no elf lord that might ride openly against Sauron like Elrond or Glorfindel."

Adair, a chilled feeling running down her neck like cold sweat, shivvered as he said that.

"What do you mean? What was that…. that wraith you say?"

Seregren whistled and his horse and the small Pathia appeared nearby, "We musn't speak here, we must not linger. Ride on to Rivendell and tell lord Elrond what has happened, I will make tracks to the Ford. Take my horse, Ithilwen, it will be much faster than two on that poor little pony."

Adair, though she was concidered tall for her people, had difficulty reaching the sturrips on the towering elf's saddle and had Lhydell give her a boost.

"Make for Imladris and be wary, do not stop until you have reached Elrond," Seregnen cautioned as they hastily made for the hidden city.


	4. Imladris

_I am trying to keep in the right with the time-line given in the back of RotK, but it's hard to figure out how long it takes to get from point A to point B and guess at which route said person took and where they are at the moment this occurs… yadda yadda yadda… Please, mellon-nin, send ideas of what next… I have a feeling that pretty soon I'm going to get writers block, so I'd like to have a pile of reviews and ideas to fall back on._

Chapter 5:

"A wraith, you say?"

Lhydell nodded to Elrond who was franticly searching through reams of paper.

"That is what Seregnen called it, he said it was a shadow connected to the Nazgul."

Glorfindel leaned towards the small ranger from his chair at Adair's side, "There must be some foul plans being made, perhaps this was a scout from Dol Goldur."

Elrond paused in his searching to glance at the tall elf lord, "If that is so then Mithrandir's guesses are true, the Enemy is beginning to look elsewhere for the ring, his eye has moved from the Gladden Fields north to Eriador."

Glorfindel nodded, "And if his eye rests there now and this daemon is a scout, the Nazgul will soon be in the coming."

Elrond cursed and dove back into the pile of scrolls, hastily digging through them as he shouted, "call together all the lords that may ride out against these wraiths, have them come as soon as possible to me. We must take action to see that the ring does not fall into the hands of the enemy."

Glorfindel, finishing the bandage he had been applying to Adair's badly cut arm, rose with a bow and quickly left the study leaving the two Dunedain with Elrond.

Lhydell and Adair passed questioning glances as the dark elf gave a triumphant shout and pulled out a battered scroll.

"Can you believe," Elrond sighed, gracefully dropping into a chair, "that all these scroll are just from these last few days?"

Adair raised an eyebrow and Lhydell shrugged with a grin at their distant kinsman.

"Lord, if this wraith is just a scout from the south, why did it make chase after Ithilwen," Lhydell asked.

The elf rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, "What causes me more wonder is why, if it knew where Ithilwen hid, it did not kill her or make an attempt to bring her down from the tree. This is a riddle indeed."

Adair, about to say something else, made to stand but fell back into her chair with a gasp of pain and the healer awoke in the lord of Imladris.

"Stay seated, Ithilwen, I will get some things to ease the pain. I believe that you have not done any serious damage to yourself; your ribs are only bruised and you are still young and able to regain any grounds lost quickly. As for you, Uinaerien," Elrond now turned to Lhydell, "I will have you go find my sons and tell bring them here. They should be out near the armouries, they are preparing to leave for another hunt in the mountains."

Lhydell Uinaerien bowed and quickly departed to find the tall hunters.

She found them where their father had said they would be, grimly making bundles of extra arrows to be taken along on their hunt for the foul orcs.

"Elladan, Elrohir, a moment," she called, "wait a bit for me."

Elrohir, the younger of the two but the taller, turned and smiled when he saw the small one running in his direction. He nudged his twin, who also turned to greet Lhydell as she breathlessly stopped in front of them.

"Uinaerien, what have we done to deserve the misfortune of this chance meeting," Elladan teased.

Once she regained her breath, Lhydell teased him back, "Uh oh, Noldor elf, you are in trouble, and your _Adar_ sent me to get you two. You're in so much trouble, I don't thing lady Arwen will be able to convince him not to skin you both alive, like I hear she did when you two rascals dyed a certain blond elf lord's hair green."

Elrohir laughed jovially, "She got you there, brother! Of course, it was only this mischevious brat," he poked Elladan in the side playfully, "that would do something as horrible as dying Glorfindel's hair green… which didn't look rather becoming, wouldn't you say?"

Elladan shoved his brother and winked at Lhydell, "Oh ho, so who's the culprit now? I seem to remember, _mellon_, that it was _you_ who dyed his hair, and it wasn't green it was black."

The two brothers good-naturedly bantered on in such a fashion until all three had tears of laughter streaming down their cheeks.

"You two are impossible," Lhydell gasped, "but your father really does wish me to take you two to him in his study."

Both brothers were immediately serious once more.

"Do you know why?" Elladan queried.

"Yes," Lhydell began, "But I am not so sure if he would approve of me telling you two here where others may listen in."

The twins took this as a bad sign and started off in the direction that Lhydell had just came from, leaving her behind as they strode quickly on long legs while she raced after them on her short ones.

Once Lhydell had caught up with the dark haired twins they were already being briefed by their father who was in the process of forcing Adair to drink a rather disgusting looking concoction.

"… Seregnen met Uinaerien; he was watching the fords when he saw the two being pursued by the thing. He caused it to flee from its search for Ithilwen and is now back guarding access to the ford."

"So close it came to the Greyflood?" Elrohir was amazed at this wraiths daring, "The darkness has grown stronger for it to pass so easily into Rhudaur."

Elladan nodded, "Our border guards and rangers have seen no wraiths, how could it have come so near and not be seen? It must have come far north over the mountain passes above the Ettenmoors,"

"Or south through the Gap of Rohan," Elrond cut in.

"Rohan? But _Ada_," Elrohir protested, "that is close to Orthanc, this thing would have been spotted and we would have been warned by Curunír, would we not have?"

The tall _Peredhil _lord shook his head gravely, "I'm afraid not, _ion-nin_, it seems the wizard has betrayed us, as Mithrandir suspected."

Adair leapt into the conversation, eyes wide with sudden fear, "Lord Gandalf has not been seen for a long time, last I saw of him was three month back, perhaps, when Lord Radagast rode to meet him near the Brandywine. They conversed and parted company…"

She trailed off as the terrible implications hit her.

Elrond inhaled sharply and nodded for her to continue.

"Well, my lords, the Brown Wizard gave Gandalf a message from Saruman to go to him at Orthanc… he has not been seen since."

She bowed her head as realization struck her and Lhydell fell into a chair nearby.

Elrohir and Elladan looked stunned, but Elrond only closed his eyes and nodded soberly, "Yes, Ithilwen is correct and I am afraid that Mithrandir is now a prisoner or… or…" he glanced at the tiny ranger who was looking at him with wide eyes, "or otherwise unable to return to us."

"Eru," Lhydell Uinaerien breathed.

Adair finished the potion that Elrond had given her and set down the cup with a clatter that made them all jump and glare at her. She gestured that she was sorry and grimaced as the after-taste of the drink worsened.

It was at this moment that Glorfindel and five other tall and beautiful elf lords returned; their calm faces and fire-bright eyes were a comfort to those in the study, especially to the two rangers who had never seen so many great lords together at once.

Lhydell, who had accompanied her cousin and chieftain to Imladris several times before, recognized the noble beings to be the lords Adarhídh, Caegaran, Öl and his younger brother Ollon, but she could not name the red-haired lord standing next to Glorfindel.

The lords bowed to Elrond and he introduced them all to the rangers.

"My lords, these are the rangers Lhydell Uinaerien and Adair Ithilwen. _Mellyn-nin_, these are the lords Adarhír, Caegaran, Öl, Ollon, and this is Síladan Aglargelion. You may have not seen him before as his feet are always itching to travel and goes often on journeys in all directions," Elrond commented with a small smile as Síladan bowed.

Elrohir and Elladan brought in extra chairs from an adjoining room and the lords seated themselves in a semi-circle facing Elrond's scroll-cluttered desk as the briefing was retold and the two Edain found themselves the objects of much question and scrutiny.

Once Elrond finished his telling of the events, Caegaran, the grey eyed and silver haired lord from Hollin, rose and asked what they must do to help.

"The ring-bearer is soon to make trail to these lands, has he not already left. This wraith was sent as a scout, most likely, to be sure that any that may be in the nazgul's way are chased off or killed. There will be more, we must assume, and this can only mean that the nine are not far behind."

His words caused unease among the lords and flickers of disquiet in the hearts of the two mortals, but none interrupted the wise _Peredhil_.

"Therefore I must ask that each of you ride out, one in each direction, in open hostility against this darkness and search for the ring-bearer. 

"I have kin travelling to the havens through Eriador and the Shire, they will look out for him and send word if they meet. Also, the Dúnedain of the north watch the borders of the halfling's lands," here Elrond nodded at the seated girls, "and will be attempt to deter the attention of any who search for the bearer and his burden."

Lhydell cleared her throat and the glittering eyes turned to her, "My lords, what of my kinsman Aragorn? I was told earlier that he had caught some loath creature and delivered it into the prisons of Mirkwood, but where is he now? Would he be on his way to the halfling's aid now, or is it that he may also be held in the dungeons of Orthanc?"

"Orthanc! Who," Adarhír jumped to his feet, "is imprisoned in the hold of the Chief Istari? Why would the Dúnadan be held there?"

Elrohir rolled his dark eyes and Elladan pressed a hand upon the upset lord's shoulder.

"Mithrandir suspected that Curunír has joined with the servant of Morgoth, Sauron; since then he has disappeared. Ithilwen here witnessed Mithrandir's cousin, the Istar Heruvarnë, deliver a message from Orthanc to him… when do you believe that day was?"

Adair closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side as she counted back in her head the days. "I think… about the fifth of July, in Shire reckoning, that is. Today would be the fifth of September, so three months to the date, Mithrandir left the Shire for Isengard."

This news alarmed even Elrond himself, and the elf lords frowned and muttered amongst themselves, this ended though when Elrond raised his hand and they fell silent. Elrohir and Elladan, who had finally coaxed Adarhír into sitting down, looked around the room with icy green eyes as their father described his plan to the agitated elven-lords.

Lhydell listened to Elrond's words and felt quite out of place among these great beings. 

'I needn't hear all of this, this council is for great lords and I don't doubt that I stick out like a dragon among lizards,' she mused. 'I wonder if we will be told why we were summoned here in the first place?'

Adair must have had these same thought, too, for once Elrond was finnished and the lords decided upon what to do, she stood with a grimance of pain from her bruised body and bowed her head to the circle.

"My Lords, if I may, I have an enquiery."

Lord Elrond nodded to her and she continued, "Uinaerien and I are present at this council because of our incounter with the daemon, but why, I wish to ask, were we summoned from out watch of the Shire's border to Imladris in the first place?"

She eased herself back into her seat, where Elrond passed her another cupful of the brew he had made, and forced her to finish it before he would answer this question.

"You were summoned because I need two reliable and inconspicuous companions to travel with messages to Mirkwood. My sons sugested the pair of you."

Elrohir winked and both Lhydell and Adair found themselves blushing, but just from the praise received. Adair winked back.

"Thank-you, lord," Adair sighed, the medicine kicking in and making her thoughts slow and eyelids grow weary.

As Adair Ithilwen drifted off into sleep, the council rose and departed from the study.

Elladan left with his father and Glorfindel, but Elrohir stayed with Lhydell.

"I assume that you will need rest soon too? There are rooms that have been made ready for you and a bath was drawn when you arrived; it may be cool now, though."

Lhydell smiled at the thought of a bath, she'd not had a real one since her last visit and would find it most enjoyable, no matter what the water temperature was.

Elrohir gently lifted the drugged ranger into his arms and set off with his distantly related companions to the guest's wing where he left them under the care of Hélen, the resident nanny and general pamperer of guests, who had been Elrond and Elros' own nurcemaid.

*****

"Well, my love, how you have changed since I've seen you last," the merrily round and red cheeked Hélen crooned, wakening the aching Adair with a gentle shake of the shoulder. "You must drink this, lord Elrond himself made it and said to not let you make one move until you've drank it all down."

Adair sighed as the prospects of another one of the ancient healers' terrible tasting medicines.

Wearily she held out her hand for the cup and raised it to her mouth where she curiously sniffed it. The scent made her mind clear and eyes spring wide, it didn't smell like a skunk beat with a salmon (a term used by Aragorn to describe the taste of the strange brews and mixtures forced upon the injured by his adoptive father) In fact, it smelled sweet, like the flowers of the _Tuilëion_ trees that grew in the more remote western places like Harlindon and Eryn Vorn.

Without hesitation she gulped down the sweet smelling drink, only to gurgle and shout in mock rage when the taste hit her like a troll.

"Ugh, Hélen, this is worse than the others! What on Arda is this," Adair sputtered.

The jolly lady took the cup from her, laughing, "That is boiled _tharladen _mixed with ground _athelas_ and red wine."

Adair made a face, causing Helen to laugh again.

It was then that Lhydell, looking much younger and brighter cleaned up and garbed in a soft blue elvish dress, slipped into the room with a sly smile on her face.

"Did Hélen make you take that false poison too, Ithilwen?"

Hélen patted the freshened Dúnadan's head and smiled, "Ai, love, she took her medicine as well, with considerably less fuss and hastle than you, I believe."

Lhydell shrugged with a grin and settled down into a convieniently placed chair.

"I can tell that this is the first time you've had this particular concoction? Dear cousins Aragorn, Halbarad, Wherul, and I were his 'patients' for a month after a rather nasty incident with the twins and a band of goblins.

"Elrond decided to see if he could still make a mean draught of restorative and tested the batches out on us four unsuspecting and helpless rangers, or experaments, as we decided we should be called."

Adair snorted and Hélen chuckled as the smiling short Adan recounted the unsuccessfull-hunting trip to northern Hithaeglir and the interesting journey back to Rivendell with four injured rangers and five bemused Noldor elves, including the sons of Elrond.

After a good chuckle, Adair felt well enough to get up and take a bath.

Hélen helped her in and washed her hair for her, despite Adair's emberassed protests, saying that she wasn't supposed to raise her arms above her head.

"Ah, my little Ithilwen," the nanny sang in a child-like voice as she washed the long and coarse brown hair, "I will miss you greatly when I go, you and all your cousins and kin. You are all like my own, I have pampered and taken care of most of you and I will feel a deep hole in my heart where you hold on."

Confused, Adair looked up into the glimmering eyes that threatened to shed tears.

"Oh, Hélen! Aunty, you speak as though you know something I don't. I'm only thirty-five years old; I have a long time yet for you to baby me. Why do you mourn already?"

The dark-haired elf patted Adair's cheek, comforting her.

"Oh, love, it's not you for whom I mourn. I mourn my own loss… I shall soon pass through Mithlond to my own husband and children who have long since departed. My lady Elwing charged me to look after her sons, and soon my little Elrond will leave for Valinor. I have looked after Elros' children and each heir of Elendil has been pampered and tended by my hands, but now I must see to my own children and my own kin."

Adair smiled sadly at the ancient being and felt tears flowing down her own cheeks.

No more words were needed to be said and Hélen finished washing Adair's hair and left.

For a long time Adair just lay back in the bath and reminised, nearly drifting off as the waters cooled. Once she did screw up enough energy to climb out the water and dry herself off, she discovered that someone had laid out a deep green tunic and slacks for her. These she donned then wandered out the glass doors into the fountain room where Lhydell lay dozing by the small waterfall.

The sun shone merrily and Adair found herself blinking heavily.

A voice inside her shouted 'don't sleep, you might miss something, you need to keep your eyes sharp!' but the soothing sounds of water and the warmth of the sunlight beat the voice and Adair found herself stretching out on a fountain ledge near Lhydell and fell fast asleep.

*****

While the two exhausted edain slept fitfully in the calm and peace of Rivendell, Gandalf the Grey pondered the events that led up to where he was now – imprisoned on the pinnacle of Orthanc- and Aragorn travels from Mirkwood where he stayed with his friend Legolas Thrandulion, Prince of that realm, to Bree. He passed over the Ettenmoors and through the Weather Hills as his cousins slept after their own travels.

Boromir, son of Denethor II of Gondor, passes Isengard by way of the Gap of Rohan, and Legolas Thrandulion leaves for Imladris carrying the new of Gollum's escape.

Elladan and Elrohir leave for the north to hunt orcs hiding on mountain paths, and the Elf lords from the council attended by Lhydell and Adair disperse and look for clues as to where the wraith crossed the mountains into Eriador and the location of the Istari Mithrandir and Heruvarnë.

* Heruvarnë is Radagast the Brown

_* Peredhil _is elvish for 'half-elven'

*An Istar/Istari is one of the five wizards that came to middle earth in the third age to    

  contest the power of the Maia Sauron. There was one white, one grey, one brown, and 

  two blue wizards.

* Uinaerien means 'of the sea'.

* Ithilwen means 'moon light'.

_* Tuilëion trees_ are Mayday trees


	5. Arrivals and Introductions

Chapter 6: Arrivals and Introductions

"Ring Bearer? Elrond cannot mean what I think he means…" Lhydell paused mid-sentance, contemplating the thought and the eggs on her half raised fork, "I mean… I thought that it had rolled out to sea. At least, that's what Gandalf told me."

Adair ignored her and continued stuffing a piece of toast into her mouth.

"Well lassie, I can't be sure but I think that you just might be talking about my old ring and my nephew, Frodo. I expected him to come visit me sometime, I guess he must be coming now."

Gulping down the last of her toast, Adair smiled at the sweet old hobbit, "Really?"

Seeing the invitation for a story, Bilbo clapped his speckled hands and began reciting the tale of his journeys to the Lonely Mountain and everything that has happened since.

It was nearly three hours before someone came looking for them, and found them, still sitting around their breakfast table listening to the elderly halfling's story.

Although the hobbit tended to drift off every now and then during his story, the two rangers and the few other's who stayed to hear the tale learned enough to fill a book, and possibly more.

Once Bilbo had fallen asleep for the tenth time, the small knot of listeners dispersed and he was covered with a light blanket and moved to his favourite chair next to the fireplace.

'So that explained a lot of what's going on,' Ithilwen commented to herself as she made her way down to the stables, 'This is much more perilous than I thought… if those Nazgul ride for the Shire… only the Rangers stand in their way! No wonder poor ol' Gandalf ordered the watch doubled, he guessed at what was going to happen. Yes, this explains quite a lot.'

At the stables Adair stopped to gaze sadly at the empty stall where her Tabinith used to stay when they stayed here. 

"I figured you'd come here, Ithilwen."

Adair turned.

"I'm sorry about your mare, she was a beauty."

She nodded and turned back to the stall, a hand stroking the smooth wood.

Adarhír sighed and leaned against a tall pillar, "You aren't making this easier for me, you know."

"Oh, and that is supposed to make this all better?"

"Of course not, Ithilwen. Nay, I was only trying to… Ach! Never mind, you are the most stubborn of your kind I have ever met!"

Adair grinned inwardly but turned to the befuddled elf with a look of scorn and condensation, "If you think that I am the worst you must nere have met many, mop top."

The two glared at one another in silence before breaking up into laughter.

"Where in the presence of the Gods did you come up with that?"

Adair blushed and suppressed a girlish giggle, "It's a derivative used by Halflings, but I suppose it works for you." She pointed at the rare curly brown hair worn so prettily by the elf.

Chuckling, Adarhír ran a slender but calloused hand through the offending pile of curls, pulling one ringlet straight until it was long enough to go in front of his eyes, "Hmm, I need a trim, it's too long again."

Adair sighed, "Already? You just trimmed it a few weeks ago, no normal persons hair should grow that fast."

"Lemme guess," Adarhír cut in, "I'm a complete and utter lucky bastard and doesn't deserve to have such wonderfully gorgeous hair and dazzling eyes, not to mention the perfect complexion and pearly white teeth, even if I am one of the First Born?" 

The bemused Dunadan nodded.

"Well, too bad, Ithilwen. I guess you'll just have to take my clippings and see if they look good if you glue them to your head."

With a laugh Adair playfully pushed her friend into a pile of straw only to have him catch her wrist and pull her down with him, nearly landing in a water trough. 

For a moment it seemed like time slowed and the sun stood still as the two gazed into each other's eyes, their bodies close and hands clasped together.

Hesitantly, as one, they leaned closer until they were touching noses.

Ithilwen felt as though she could see the light of the trees and the glory of the Valar looking into his deep hazel eyes; and, though she would not be able to repeat it or remember how it went, the song of Iluvatar rang through her ears and all her senses sang along.

To Adarhír the song dimmed, dampened by the sound of their breath and heartbeats, and his eyes looked into hers and he saw her Fëa * and it was more beautiful than any gem or precious thing on middle earth.

Their lips touched and a spark shock through them, a jolt that made stars dance in their eyes and their heads float above the clouds.

Time sped itself up again, frustrated that it let itself slow down, and went by quickly, even to the eyes of elves.

Night stole over the hidden realm and the stars shone bright.

Still in the stables Ithilwen, as we shall now continually know her as, and Adarhír lay beside each other in the golden, fresh smelling straw, eyes closed and simply holding one another.

Ithilwen fell asleep with the melody of life drifting through her mind and a smile on her lips, Adarhír drifted into elvish dreams soon after, eyes gazing into nothingness, glazed with happiness and love.

***

That is how Uinaerien, we will now also call her by her Elvish name, found the two.

With a miscevious smile she backed away and left them alone to their slumber, wandering off into the woods surrounding the Last Homely House to the small bridge near what she believed must be the most beautiful waterfall in Middle Earth.

The clear water sparkled and the sound was like nothing to be described as Uinaerien rested among the ferns and young trees surrounding the pool.

Dipping a bare foot into the cool waters she felt that tingle of life energy that time cannot weaken or the years pollute, nor can the body become accustomed to the brilliance of the waters of Imladris.

Our small Numenorean sighed, closed her eyes, leaned back onto her elbows and listened to the sounds of the falls and the life of the stream, smelling the pure mountain air, the flowers and trees, the delicious smell of bread wafting from the kitchens, and the more distant scent of horses and the muffled beating of a hammer upon the anvil.

Out of the corner of her mind she could hear nearly inaudible footsteps coming towards her and the swish of rich fabric.

'Arwen,' she guessed, for she doubted that even if Ithilwen had gotten up, she would have been that silent, and she would not have been able to hear at all any other elves that would speak to her.

"_Mellyn-nin_," Yes, there was no doubt now that it was the daughter of Elrond, "you almost disappear among the ferns when you lie so low and silently. You must have been taught by my brethren."

Uinaerien opened one eye to see the tall and fair-haired she-elf standing near.

"You must have ignored their lessons, my lady, for you are as noisy as an orc."

Silvery laughter split the air and Uinaerien sat up and grinned at the radiant Arwen Undomiel.

"No offence, of course."

More laughter, "none taken, _mellyn_."

Arwen moved closer and sat gracefully down upon a large rock and slipped her feet into the clear crystalline waters with a contented smile and deep inhale.

"Do you feel it too, or do only mortals feel the… the… I don't know if there is a word for it in any language… like a burst of energy but good and pleasant?"

Arwen smiled, the white gems strung across her forehead danced with light but they could ne're match the brilliance of her soulful eyes. "Yes, mellyn, the first-born feel this phenomenon… though I do not believe that there is a word for it either. Perhaps we should make one up for it? This pool is called the Evemere, so perhaps we should call this feeling the _Gailgorf_?"

"Hmm," Uinaerien mocked deep thought, "I suppose it could do…what about _Thûlhúr_?"

Another smile graced the face of the daughter of Elrond, "Hmm, Torch Spirit or Spirited Breath… actually, I think I like yours better, Uinaerien."

The now beaming adan felt herself blush at this compliment, yet continued with her inquisition.

"Well then, this _Thûlhúr_ is a great mystery to me and never have I thought to ask about it before now, or, at least, I've never actually found a good time to ask."

Arwen nodded and light was cast about the clearing by the reflections of her gems.

"It is very mysterious indeed. I have wondered this often and the only reasons that I can think of is the presence of so many lords of the first-born dwell near this pool and bathe in its waters. Perhaps it draws strength and energy from those that swim in the stream or, in my brothers cases, founder under the falls."

Both smiled and a comfortable silence fell, Uinaerien listening to the waters and the sounds of creatures and distant singing, Arwen to the melody of life.

Bliss overcame all senses and Uinaerien felt herself falling asleep among the clean smelling ferns and soft mosses, but instead of letting herself drift away she moved swiftly and slipped into the Evemere, immersing herself in the pristine waters.

Rising to the surface she saw Arwen gazing into an elvish dream.

Silently she swam closer, feeling more awake than ever, and just as she prepared to splash the poor unsuspecting elf, was grabbed by the ankle and pulled underwater.

Arwen jumped up, quite awake and only a little wet, as Elrohir bodily picked up the small, wet, and furious prankster and tossed her over to Elladan on the bridge.

Elladan, planting a kiss on the spitting mad human's cheek, tossed her back into the deep part of the pool where she landed, cursing and sputtering all types of indecent words in all types of languages. Only once she had pulled herself out of the water and was 'tsk'ed at by Arwen and Elrohir did she quit with the colourful verbs and mumble, "jerks."

Elrohir giggled quite madly and squirted a handful of water at the dripping Uinaerien.

"Oh, 'Aerien, don't you like water?"

When he was snarled at he mocked horror and Elladan came to his rescue.

"Oh, I don't think so, brother, but I think she smells better, at least."

This comment was met with a stick bouncing off his forehead and a fist shook at the other teasing twin.

"That's not very nice. Weren't you ever taught not to throw sticks at people?"

Uinaerien laughed harshly, "You forget, Elladan, that it was _you_ who taught me archery."

Elrohir giggled, "And it was I that taught her blade work… which reminds me, how are your knives? I happen to know that another oddball like yourself that likes the long knives is making tracks for our lovely home as we speak. Perhaps you will find time to spar?"

Arwen helped her brother out of the pool and onto a rock as Elladan, mocking great hurt and injury due to a poorly aimed stick thrown at him, lurched quite un-elf like over onto a bench and sprawled out clutching his 'wounds'.

"Oh, for being the oldest you sure are a big elfling, Elladan," Arwen teased, tossing a strategically placed pinecone at her mocking brother. "You need to set the example in front of such a young and impressionable audience."

"Young and impressionable? Just who are you speaking of, mi'lady," Uinaerien protested, "I happen to have seen over thirty winters, old compared to those of, how should I put it, lesser blood lineage? After all, I am distantly related to you three."

The twins grinned but Elrohir soon felt the urge to push his dear sister into the water when she commented that she had meant him when she said young and impressionable, not their mortal companion.

"Ha, I am older than you," he shouted to his very wet and very mad sister.

"And twice as immature," Elladan noted, pushing his twin in next to Arwen.

Uinaerien, at this time, was doubled over with laughter, making a very nice sized projectile to be tossed into the pond as well.

Now that all three younger companions were in the Evemere an allegiance was quickly formed and a plot was hatched. All at once Elladan found himself tackled, pinned down and ferns shoved in his mouth and tossed into the water.

This wasn't quite to his liking but he decided to give it up when he was threatened with being tossed off the top of the falls if he tried to push or splash any members of the alliance anymore.

Other elves nearby heard much laughter and splashing coming from the Evemere as the four spent the rest of the evening swimming and forgetting the worries of the past week, past month, past year, ai, even the past century (for those that had lived long enough to do so, of course.)

***

Too quickly, it seemed to the residents and guests of Imladris, did the great events leading up to other great events unfold.

On the Eighteenth Gandalf escaped from Orthanc and on that same day the Nazgul crossed the Fords of Isen, and on the twenty-second they reached Sarn Ford and clashed briefly with the watch of Rangers… grievously Wherul, cousin of Aragorn son of Arathorn and Lhydell Uinaerien, was killed and three others, including Adair Ithilwen's brother Arden, were injured.  The others were pursed east by five of the Nazgul, the other four rode into the Shire in search of Frodo who left Bag End on the twenty-third.

In the Hurried Days, as they were later called, our story is once more taken up upon the arrival of Prince Legolas Thrandruilion of Mirkwood Forest in Imladris on the sixth of October, the first of the Nine Walkers to arrive.

***

"My lord," The servant bowed low as he entered the study, "Prince Legolas has arrived just now from the High Passes. He is on his way here now."

With a wave of a hand, Elrond dismissed the servant and quickly began to clear his desk and all other flat surfaces of the clutter of scrolls, books, and an odd assortment of other papers and mysterious looking contraptions and dials.

'Can't do to have that little prat seeing a mess and telling one and all that the Noldor _peredhil_ is a dirty incompetent,' Elrond thought bitterly, 'why on Arda is the Princeling here? It's bad enough that the Nine are about without that troublemaker hanging his quiver in my halls.'

Such thoughts like those went on in the tall and rather irritated elf lord's mind, taking his anger and aggravation out on the quite undeserving and well-mannered blond haired Prince.

'Only bad news could have brought him here, as usual. If he isn't bringing bad news it's that he's bringing back an injured Estel or a wounded twin… or all of the above. It has been known to happen,' he added, furrowing his brow in frustration.

A cough alerted a rather abashed Elrond to Legolas' presence and, seeing no small amount of amusement on the younger being's face, looked down and saw that he was tearing a scroll nearly in two. With a heavy glare at the Prince, Elrond indignantly shoved the now quite ragged scroll into a drawer in his desk and slammed it shut.

"Your Highness," Elrond bowed his head to the prince who returned the gesture with a mischievous sparkle in his gigantic blue eyes.

"My Lord Elrond," Legolas struggled to control his mirth, "I come bearing news which concerns deeds that your youngest son…"

"Yes, yes, Prince Thrandruilion, I know that you carry news," Elrond cut him off, "I have called for a gathering of peoples for guidance in a great deed. I wish you to remain and attend this council and then you may tell your message to all, unless it is one that deserves the very moment's importance?"

Legolas shook his head; miffed a bit that this half-elf had cut him off, but said naught in fear that the elder lord would give him 'the look'. 

"No, Lord Eärendilion, the matter is not utterly pressed or compelling that I must speak my tale now."

Elrond bowed his head, 'I have been too hard on him; I forget that he is older than my sons and has matured greatly since the departure of his mother and eldest brother to Valinor. Yet, I mustn't say he is completely serious - Estel seems to bring out the imp in him. Not that all great lords are sombre and composed, just last year Glorfindel felt the need to pull all manners of pranks on the twins and Arwen.'

"Then I will call for a servant to show you to an empty room that has been prepared for a guest. How many were in your company?"

"Just myself, eight of my company, and my youngest sister. We left not long after Estel and tried to overtake him by taking the High Pass, but he is surely worthy of the name Strider, he beat us quite thoroughly." 

Elrond smiled, all hostility for the 'youth' now banished from his mind, "That he does. I suppose I have you and your family to thank for his confounded speed in the wild and his tracking skills."

Legolas, hiding a sly grin, shrugged, "I would have beat him but we were waylaid by orcs and a company of goblins that lurked on the paths. We destroyed them swiftly though they were many, and continued on with little time lost, but 'twas enough for the accursed man to make speed over the northern passes and into the Weather Hills. I saw him clambering quite ungracefully near the Hoarwells on his way westward as my company and I passed over the final hill.

"I expect that he will soon be returning from his travels? I was intrigued in discovering that he was not making to Rivendell but to the wild lands past."

"Oh! Just a moment, lords, I must tell you this," Uinaerien poked her head in the door and, seeing the two noble elves in a deep conversation, hesitated before continuing at the promptings of Elrond, "There is a message just from the watch that a company of dwarves is approaching and appear to be making for this place. What is your response?"

The lord waved his hands dismissively, "No, Uinaerien, let them pass and travel here under the watch of a scout."

The small ranger made to leave but Elrond motioned her to stay, "on second thought, ride out now and meet this company and guide them here, will you _mellyn_?"

"Yes, my lord," Uinaerien bowed and departed quickly to the stables where she made ready her pony and rode out on the paths to meet the miners.

Legolas, mindful of the close resemblance in features this girl shared with his friend Aragorn, wondered that he had not met this ranger before in particular.

As if knowing his thoughts Elrond explained Uinaerien's kinship to the Dunedain's chieftain and the reason that she was here.

"I am sending messages to your father and uncle and that adan, along with another, will deliver them. I assume that you will stay for a while and accompany my sons on one of their hunting expeditions? Elladan and Elrohir have already left, but once Aragorn arrives you are most welcome to take him with you and find them, they will enjoy your company greatly."

"Of course," Legolas smiled, "once Estel returns I will make sure that we go for at least two days. I'm sure that you'd love nothing more than to get some of us out of your hair, Lord Elrond. It should prove a good distraction for Estel, if what you say is indeed in occurrence he will need a time of rest when he delivers these halflings to you."

"I don't doubt it," said Elrond, "but I wish that you attend this council also. You are learned in many things other than soldiery and woodcraft and your opinion would be greatly appreciated."

The golden haired prince nodded his head and stifled a small yawn.

A dark eyebrow shot up and Elrond suppressed a smile, "I suppose you are weary from your journey and these encounters with goblins and _yrch_. I will…"

The two elves stopped their motions of rising to depart when a loud knock echoed through the study. Elrond winced, the sound of dwarf boots and gauntlets clapped loudly on polished stone in the outer chamber and he knew that now there was no chance of escaping the emissaries of the Dwarf King.

"Enter," He called, hiding his disappointment and misgivings as the odd assortment of dwarves and one similarly sized ranger filed into the room.

Uinaerien came forward and bowed low to Elrond, clearing her throat daintily as before she announced the guests, "My lords, may I present the Lords Glóin, head councillor of the King Under-the-Mountain, and his son Gimli, Margow son of Margor, Baren son of Theor, and Umran son of Urdock, chief swords smith of Erebor. Friends, this is the Lord Elrond and…" she trailed off as she realized she had no idea who this golden haired elf lord was.

"He is the Prince of Mirkwood, my lady," the greybeard Glóin smiled tensely and bowed his head in her direction, "we are acquainted."

Legolas couldn't, no matter how hard he might have tried (which he didn't) stop himself from flashing a false smile and upturned nose at the elder dwarf, which cause the younger son of the offended dwarf's beard to bristle and put his hand discreetly on his axe handle.

"You might want to turn that scowl a different direction, master elf, if you wish to keep it attached to the rest of your body."

Uinaerien jumped between the two as they advanced, Legolas' eyes flashing with ice and the dwarf's with fire, "Here, here! None of that, my Lords, you are all grown up yet acting like children. Imagine, picking fights in the presence of not only great Elf Lord but in front of a youngster such as myself! I mayhap be scarred for the rest of my life by the tragedy, should it be played out, so STAND DOWN!"

The last words caused both stares of hatred to be momentarily shaken and stare unbelievingly at the apparently young human girl that displayed so much authority that both took a step back and raised their hands before they realized it.

"There, that's better," she sarcastically clucked like a mother hen, "now settle down, children, you must be tuckered out. Come, come, now."

One of the dwarves, despite the seriousness of the situation, giggled in a deep and grumbly voice, making a curious echo vibrate through the room as the company seated themselves after a nod from Elrond.

'Who could have taught her that trick,' Elrond wondered, 'I know that the twins nor Arwen could have taught that to her, and Estel only has mastered my 'Look' so it wasn't him… she sounded just like mother getting after Elros and I when we died Gil-Galad's banner orange…' He sighed, lost in a painful memory of his broken family.

Uinaerien coughed and he was jerked out of his remembrances to discover everyone looking directly at him. He realized that someone must have asked him a question.

"I asked, Lord Elrond, how your children fare?"

That was Glóin.

"Oh, my sons are all outside my borders, at the moment, on various duties."

The greybeard nodded politely, "And the lovely Lady Arwen, I trust that she is well?"

"Yes, Glóin son of Gróin, she is well and is presently living in these lands, having not long returned from her mother's kin in Lorien."

This exchange was pleasant enough and seemed to appease the elderly dwarf's son for the moment, but there was still a smouldering look in his earth coloured eyes.

At this moment Uinaerien, who could tell that the Prince was tired, rose and asked if she might be excused, then turned to Legolas and asked if he would accompany her to the banquet room.

Legolas, seeing a chance to escape which was readily made by the small human, agreed and they exited the study where Elrond and the dwarves began to discuss something or other that neither cared to listen to.

"Your welcome, 'Highness," Uinaerien said in a scolding tone, "for getting you out of a possibly dangerous situation."

Legolas smiled, "do you always speak so to strangers and elf-lords?"

"Is there any way else to," she laughed jovially, "besides, you are a friend of my kinsmen hence a friend of mine. I'm sure Aragorn doesn't need to pansy-handle you so why should I, eh?"

"For one so short I am amazed by your exuberance, you remind me of Estel when he was little and trying to be an elf by wearing thick heeled boots and carrot-ends on his ears."

This picture made the already chuckling girl drop to her knees in howls of laughter.

Legolas snickered to himself, remembering the incident quite clearly.

"Speaking of him," Uinaerien gasped, "have you any idea as to where he may be? There are plots about and I have been worried…" now quite serious, though a small sparkle danced in her eyes, Legolas could see concern written across her face, causing lines and wrinkles that should not be found on such a young one to appear.

'She can only be in her fortieth year, how can she already be getting lines like such?' He wondered sadly. "I am not sure if I should say but I will tell you that, last I saw him, he was safe and making for the Weatherhills."

Uinaerien shook her head in distress, to Legolas' surprise, and she closed her eyes as she inhaled sharply. He could barely catch her mutter, though he had the keen ears of the First Born, "That is good yet terrible news."

Legolas caught her arm and bent to look strait into her eyes, "What is it? What danger is Estel facing?"

No small amount of despair flooded her eyes, "_Nazgul_."

**Constructive (or deconstructive) criticism please!**


	6. apologies

Sorry there haven't been any recent updates, my word processor on my home computer is having hiccups and won't let me into my stories.  
  
Will be up with chapter 7 as soon as Microsoft is fixed.  
  
Thank you very much for waiting,  
  
Jinnder 


	7. Things Unwanted

Chapter 7:  
  
In the last chapter two soon-to-be members of the Fellowship arrived at Imladris, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood and the Dwarf Gimli, a kinsman of the King Under-the-Mountain. Adair Ithilwen and her companion Lhydell Uinaerien met up with old friends and, also, with new acquaintences. Ithilwen and the elf lord Adarhír found their love for each other and shared the melody of Iluvatar while Uinaerien and the children of Elrond made mischief in the Evemere, a blessed pool by a waterfall. After the tense meeting of Legolas and Gimli, Uinaerien learns that Aragorn is yet alive and Legolas finds out that his friend now faces and even worse foe than orcs or goblins.  
  
"My lord! Lord Elrond wishes for your presence in his study," the servant tapped Adarhír's shoulder, drawing his attention away from where Ithilwen sat brushing her straight, long brown hair. The words were spoken so silently that she barely even looked up from her mirror. "Thank you." The curly haired lord rose from his seat and went up behind his love and caught her hand as it reached back to run the brush through her tresses. She smiled and let go of the brush as he took over the task of brushing and braiding her hair in the elvish fashion, making small and even braids and using them to bind the rest into a twisted knot piled on the back of her head. "You don't have to do that for me, I'm not a complete child." He smiled lovingly, "you know I love to comb it, it's so lovely and strait, unlike mine." He raised a hand to push a chunk of curls out of his eyes, "I will be most glad once it is trimmed." Ithilwen stood and turned to face him, letting a slender but strong and calloused hand run through his curls and twisting one absently around her fingers, "I think it would look very nice long with the top braided back and the rest left down, like how Perennear wears his. His hair is gorgeous" He looked at her with a raised brow and she added, "His looks very nice, but yours is cuter, love." "His hair isn't nearly as curled as mine. His is merely wavy." "Oh don't pout, you big elfling," Ithilwen taunted. He stuck out his lip and made big, adoreable puppy eyes at her and his lower lip quivvered. She gave him a playful shove and patted his cheek when he mocked hurt. "Oh don't be such a big baby, if you keep your lip out like that a birdie will come by and poop on it." He giggled in suprizingly dignified way that he had mastered over his many thousands of years of life, and kissed her forehead tenderly, "I have to go now, love." "I know," she hugged him close, pressing her head into the crook of his neck, "don't be long." He kissed her again and then broke her hug and walked silently from the room.  
  
'It's the nineth of October already! The time is flying past and I haven't even prepared properly for our assignment. What will Adair say?' Thought Uinaerien, 'I suppose she is ready and rearing to move on... but then, she has been mooning around with lord Adarhír practicly since we got here, they sure do melt when they are together... it's too bad it will never be...' Uinaerien gave a start, 'where did that come from... who says it isn't meant to be?' Despite the protests part of her gave, a voice deep inside her said that this was something not meant for them and they would not see the dawn of hope together. This saddened the young ranger to no ends and distressed her too. 'I should talk to her, maybe, and see what she thinks is meant to be...' Uinaerien wandered from her seat by the fountain and poundered what she would say to her friend when she accidently found herself in the secret hall that surrounds the study of Elrond. She halted and looked around, suddenly scared that she would get in trouble for being there, and looked around for someplace to esape. A thin bar of light shone vertically into the dark hall and she lurched for the door... and found herself going from the pan into fire. "You are the only ones who may openly ride against these evils, word from my kin travelling through the west tells that the ring bearer has left the Shire and is making for my halls, pursued by cloaked riders. These are, without a doubt, some of the Nine. "My messengers and scouts tell me that a party of rangers were driven off from the Fords and pursued by five of the wraiths, the other four riding into the lands of the halflings. Luckily for the rangers, only one was killed and three wounded, and the others were chased far east before the wraiths departed and rejoined their chief. They met with something at Amon Sul, and fled from whatever it was that they attacked. No other knews I can deliver other than that it seems that just three nights ago they regrouped at the weather top and again waged a battle. The trees speak of fire, cold blades, and a great pain. I fear that the ringbearer or one of his companions was either killed or grieviously wounded by the blade of the Witch-King of Agmar." Uinaerien peeped out from behind the curtain she found herself hidden by. Lord Elrond, a terrible and great look on his face and his eyes ablaze, stood before a group of elf lords. Their backs were to her but she could guess quite correctly that their faces wore that same passion and fire. Elrond continued speaking, directing the lords that they must ride out, one in each direction, to ride against the Nine Riders whose presence had suddenly departed. "I know not from which direction the ringbearer will approach, but, if I am correct, I believe that my son is with him and that they will come by the Bridge of Mitheithel. Glorfindel, I wish you to ride in that direction." He finnished up and the lords bowed and left the room, so it was just Elrond and Uinaerien, who was hidden behind the curtain, remaining in the room. For a moment, the young ranger felt hopeful that he had not noticed her enterance and began to slowly move back into the corridor when the curtain was pulled away and there stood the elf lord revealed in his fury, sword drawn and poised to kill. Uinaerien felt as if the floor and crashed out from under her and her stomach raced up into her throat and her face went so white that, in later tellings of the story, Elrond thought that she had died standing up. "Oh Gods," she breathed and was about to faint when the lord blinked and seemed to shrink down from a mighty and terrible warrior to the wise and pleasant humoured lord that she knew so well. "Uinaerien," he sighed in a scolding tone, lowering the bright elvish sword and reaching a hand out for her to take, "what, by the One, do you think you're doing hiding behind that curtain?" Uinaerien stammered for a moment, trying to gather he thoughts into a half meaningful sentence, but could only come up with, "whaaa... oh Eru I... Ithilwen... ohhhh..." That eyebrow raised itself and he lead the now visibly shaking ranger to a chair near the fire place and sat her down, crouching down infront of her and took her hand into his. "Listen to me, Uinaerien, rada le na thîr toba, it is alright, avo niphred mi sen herth uin nestadren, tell me what is the matter." Elrond pleaded. The beautiful elvish language made her calm down and stop trembling, but she was unable to put her wits together. 'Surely I could not have scared her this badly, something else must have been running through her mind that she came to this state.' He thought. "Man, erneth-nin, gruitha le? Nara le narn." She shook her head but gasped out the words, "Im gerin tiro man na ú anim mi tiro." Elrond frowned, "this council you fell into was nothing secret, and you have nothing to fear. Rada le na thir toba, erneth-nin." The ranger hugged her knees and Elrond had to lean foreward to hear her wisper, "Palan athra mi annan im tiro... palan athra mi annan..." He inhaled sharply, "you have had a vision... you have the foresight?" Uinaerien nodded convulsively. "What did you see?" It took a few moments until she had controled her breathing and let herself relax and lean back into the comphy chair, and a few more before she dared to speak. "I saw a banner flying over an army of dead things, a black banner. The water was dark and at the healm was a hooded and cloaked figure flanked closely by a tall being with golden hair and a smaller one with an iron helm. Then it changed and I saw the flash of a sword and bright blood on the snow, and Ithilwen fell. Adarhír was running into the trees to her and arrows screamed past me, but before I could see what happened then it changed once more. I was here and you were gone. The trees were fading and the Evemere run dry. Then all I saw was you standing before me with your blade at my throat and I knew not if it were an aparition or reality." The Elf lord looked increadously at the young, frightened ranger. "Was there a feeling of evil," Elrond hesitated, never having seen a vision such as this, "when Imladris was empty?" Uinaerien shook her head, "no, only of sadness... of departure. I don't think you had died, but passed on into the West, I suppose. It was so sad, and the Evemere was dry and the ferns were dead. It was as if when you left that the life and beauty of this place had gone with you." Elrond closed his eyes and unconciously fingered the disguised Elven ring on his finger, 'yes, that is how this place will be, erneth-nin, when I leave.' He thought sadly.  
  
Ithilwen finished checking on the sound asleep Uinaerien and made silently for the lower kitchens where she knew Hélen would be making the ill rangers favourite foods. "Aunty," she knocked on the door, entering when a merry voice called her in, "what is on the menu for today?" Hélen tisked and pushed a plate full of daintey cakes and stawberries at Ithilwen, "here is something for you that I think you might like," the jolly she-elf laughed as Ithilwen practicaly devoured the platefull of food in three giant gulps. "Is there any more?" The ranger received a swat with a tea towel at that question and narrowly managed to dodge another when she commented that that must mean 'no'. "Hmm, you certainly seem hungry. Could it be because you have not been to dinner for the past two nights, off galivanting about with Lord Adarhír, I suppose. Oh, you two are so sweet together, lassie." She passed a bowl of berries to her attentive audience, "I just hope that you understand what you might be getting into." Ithilwen cocked her head to the side and absently held a strawberry up and pointed it in Hélen's direction, "what do you mean?" "Oh!" The elf momentarily scrambled for words, "didn't little Uinaerien tell you what it was that made her ill? Well, not ill, really, just shaken up quite badly." Ithilwen didn't say anything just shook her head, so Hélen continued. "She had a vision, it turns out that our little one has the gift of foresight." "Foresight! Really? I did not know; what did she see?" Hélen closed her eyes and sighed, "If she did not tell you and neither did Lord Elrond, I hardly think that I should have the right to tell you. You must find out from Uinaerien herself." "But first," she cleared her throat and picked up a tray laden with delicious foods and ripe fruit, "you must wake miss sleepy head and have her eat as much as possible. She needs to eat." Ithilwen smiled and took the tray, nearly groaning at the weight of all the food on it, "yes, aunty."   
  
"Oh Gods, how does she expect me to eat all of this? Really, she must think me a hobbit," Uinaerien complained, sitting up and pushing off the covers on her bed, "I'll nere be able to finish this!" Ithilwen grinned and Arwen laughed bright and clearly, like the waters of the Evemere. "We'll help," Arwen offered, taking one of the delightfully light and melt in the mouth cakes and poping it into her mouth. "It's the least we could do for a friend," She added. The two mortals laughed and began to pick through the array of delicious dishes and Arwen, a sucker for the imras cakes, finished them off before the others got to them. By the time most of the food was cleared off the tray and the pitcher of wine polished off, all three companions were stuffed to the brim with Hélen's good cooking and baking and leaned back on the large bed. "Mmm, it's not every day one gets to eat so well," Uinaerien commented, sucking a piece of fruit skin out of her teeth in a most unlady-like fashion, "I can't remember the last time I ate this much." Ithilwen groaned as she streatched her legs out infront of her, "Ah, I can... it was the banquet for Strider's twenty-fith name day. Oh, Hélen went all out for that event. Mmm, I can still to this day taste the sweet meats and pies that she made for us." Uinaerien chuckled and leant back on her pillow, "well, after this meal, I think that and the little feasts I had in Erelas with Pegebon some years back were the second best I've eaten." Arwen smiled, "You need to visit my Grandmother's kitchens in Lothlórien then, if you want to have the best food ever made. Of course, Hélen's is delicious, but the stuff in Lórien is...oh... beyond all description." The two mortals both made faces at their immortal friend and Ithilwen tossed a pillow at Arwen. "Bragger," Uinaerien laughed. This, Ithilwen thought, might be a good time to find out what exactly happened to her friend. "Hun, I heard say that you aren't sick. What happened that you were sent to bed?" Though she phrased this question light and innocently enough, Uinaerien ducked her head and Ithilwen felt a wave of guilt. "Oh, mellon nin, I am sorry," she gushed, leaning forewards and draping a protective arm around the younger woman's shoulders. Uinaerien clasped her friend's hand and gave her a brave smile, "It's okay, Adair, it's alright." Arwen, shoving the pillow back at Ithilwen, coughed (a very un-elf-like thing to do) and began to sing a little rhyme.  
Long ago and long afar  
Wandered one who became a star  
Ai! So grand he built his ship  
Ai! The silver sails and watermaidened tip  
Ai! The songbirds on the breeze  
As Earnil passed over the seas.  
  
Uinaerien smiled dreamily and sighed. "Oh, that I wish I had seen that ship rather than the dark one I had in my vision. It was fell and crewed by dead men, but captained by a man and accompanied by two others, one dwarf and the other an elf. Strange this was and stranger yet were the other things I saw; but I will speak no more, I can't tell. I can't tell you, Ithilwen, because I don't understand." Arwen moved close and hugged her mortal friend who had gathered her face into her hands and began to sob bitterly. 'Oh, the poor child,' the daughter of Elrond thought sadly, 'I can guess that she has seen something that happens to Ithilwen. Yet, she seems to regard me with that same... caution of one that knows something will happen...' Ithilwen had left Uinaerien's room once her distraught friend had fallen asleep and wandered in the gardens until late that evening, missing Adarhír's songs and gentle touch. She sighed as she came across the stables, but moved along. There would be no Adarhír there. Elladan and Elrohir were gone, too. It seemed, to Ithilwen, that all the elves she knew best were gone or leaving; all the lords had left to hunt orcs or on secret assignments for Elrond, and many of her lifelong friends had left to the havens in the last few years, and now she felt completely isolated from the rest of her own kinsmen. The rangers on the borders of the Shire and Bree had sent no message to her since she left, Lhydell was having visions and wants to be left alone, and who knows where Aragorn is! Surrounded by others, Ithilwen felt alone, cold and miserable. Thanks, I know it's still quite short and scattered. Oh, and yes I do realize that in one chapter I said that Elladan and Elrohir left and Adarhír went out to look for Aragorn and Frodo and then had them in Imladris in the next chapter. I just saw that myself when I went through looking for little things like that. Pooh. There are getting to be too many characters in this story - I think I am going to have to change the scenery soon or else we'll meet the whole entire fellowship, and that will be too much for my writing skills... meh. Anywhom, I'm going to wrap up this chapter now and try and get the story moving again. Toodles,  
Jinnder 


	8. Update

Hey folks,

Sorry I haven't written much lately – I'm getting on that right now and starting up my work on a few of these tales you've already seen and I'm starting a new one that should be pretty cool.

Thanks –  
The writer formerly known as Jinnder

-Baralach


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